


you don't have to tell me (i can still believe)

by sentientaltype



Series: maybe i've always been this kind [2]
Category: Dare Me (TV 2019), Dare Me - Megan Abbott
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Cheating, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Use, F/F, Past Rape/Non-con, Personal Growth, Sequel, Smut, Therapy, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, and it took me another 14k words to make it happen, beth is sad and angsty, i couldn't resist giving these bitches their happy ending, i didn't read the book, some side beth/riri because i wanted to indulge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentientaltype/pseuds/sentientaltype
Summary: "You told me you loved me. Are you going to tell me that was a lie?"or Beth Cassidy, as she relates to Addy Hanlon, a second time.rated M for smut, language, underage drinking and drug use, mentions of rape
Relationships: Beth Cassidy/Addy Hanlon, Beth Cassidy/RiRi Curtis
Series: maybe i've always been this kind [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706350
Comments: 28
Kudos: 194





	you don't have to tell me (i can still believe)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a sequel to "run away with me," so i would recommend reading that fic first in case you haven't already. had to give these two a proper ending, so here it is.
> 
> title is from "tell me how" by paramore.

Sarge Will is dead.

Sarge Will is dead, and it’s all Beth’s fault.

She’s certain of what happened the moment the news breaks. They rule it a suicide, but when Beth closes her eyes she sees Matt French holding a gun to the poor man’s head, blowing his brains out. She doesn’t need proof, Beth just  _ knows _ . 

She’s also certain of something else: she doesn’t know how or why, but Beth is positive that Addy was somehow involved, that she was there, or that Coach French told her. 

Someone calls for a memorial party in one of the abandoned warehouses, on the factory’s side of town, and Beth has a hard time believing it’s really about honoring Sarge Will and not dismal kids looking for an excuse to get drunk. But Beth is dismal too, not because she knew Will or cared much about him, but because a little black pit of guilt has formed in her stomach, and it’s growing by the minute. All night, she watches people mourn a death and Beth wants to scream  _ I did this _ .

A slow rock song is blaring over someone’s portable sound system, and the way it bounces off the metal walls makes Beth’s skin crawl, until she’s standing in the middle of a clearing and Addy is walking up to her.   
She doesn’t say anything, just drapes her arms over Beth’s shoulders and falls into her embrace. They stay that way for hours, swaying in silence to the hum of the music, and Beth revels in how good it feels to have Addy in her arms again.

But Addy is wasted, she can tell, so Beth sneaks them back into Addy’s room as quietly as she can, lays Addy down on the bed and perches herself on the armchair for the night, knowing she won’t sleep. 

It’s hours before Addy wakes up again, hours before she hears it. 

“His mouth,” Addy whispers.

Beth sits up straight, closes her book. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, she leans forward to study Addy. “What?”

“His mouth,” she says again, a little louder this time, so Beth can’t deny what she’s hearing. 

But she wants to be wrong, oh does Beth want to be wrong about this. “Addy, what did you just say?”

The room is silent, save for the faint sound of wind blowing through the nearby trees, sending the autumn leaves tumbling to the ground. Addy is asleep again, and Beth is left alone, staring at the girl who was once her best friend and wondering what the hell Coach French got her into. 

***

She’s cruising down the main road on the way home from RiRi’s when she stops at the intersection beside the Dairy Cream. Beth has to look, she always does, and she doesn’t see Addy inside, almost doesn’t see her at all —but she’s standing in the parking lot with her phone up to her ear, still in uniform. She pushes on her turn signal, makes the left and pulls into the alley.

“What the fuck, Beth?” Addy shouts, voice wavering. 

When Beth steps out of the car and approaches, she can tell by the hard set of Addy’s jaw that she knows what Beth did.

“She called you?” Beth asks, arms crossing over her chest. There’s a good ten feet between them, but it still feels like Addy is scared to come closer and Beth is holding her there.

“You had to know I would find out,” Addy says, eyes blazing. “You had to know what would happen, Beth!” She’s yelling, and Beth doesn’t hesitate to close the space between them with three steps.

“How was I supposed to know he’d go crazy?” Beth counters. “Colette French is a  _ murderer _ , and you’re still so far up her ass you don’t even see it. Or maybe you just don’t care.”

“She didn’t kill him,” Addy insists, and Beth scoffs because it just proves her point. “She didn’t!”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” She almost doesn’t ask, because she knows the answer, and she knows what Addy will say. “Addy, what did she do to you? She got you caught up in this, and the cops are going to find out.”

“Go home, Beth,” Addy says, but her voice trembles around the words and Beth knows she’s weak, like a gazelle getting caught off-balance within a lion’s pouncing distance. 

“She won’t protect you,” Beth presses. “She’s using you, Addy. You’re just a pawn in the game she’s masterminding! You really think Colette French is going to side with her sixteen year old student over her fucking husband?”

“Coach cares about me!” Addy backs away, tears streaming down her face. “She cares about me more than you ever have!”

It takes everything in Beth not to scream, or cry, or throw up, and she’s looking at Addy and all she sees is everything they had, everything they gave to each other. She’s desperate, aching to make Addy understand that Coach doesn’t love her, not like Beth does.

“You don’t even know how wrong you are,” Beth spits, stepping right up to Addy again. “Open your fucking eyes, Addy. Who was there for you every time you scraped your hands up on your driveway? After every practice? Every game? Every fight with your mom?”

“Beth, stop,” Addy pleads, and she looks pained by the reminders of childhood, of her unbreakable connection to Beth. 

“You told me you loved me,” she says, voice cracking on the final syllables. Beth feels her cheeks dampening with tears, heart pounding in her chest as she stares up at Addy. “Are you going to tell me that was a lie?”

“I did love you.” Addy bows her head, refusing to meet Beth’s eyes. And then, the fatal blow. “Not anymore.” Addy turns away, heads back into the ice cream shop.

Everything with Addy had been so fragile, Beth never thought it could get worse. She thought Addy chose Coach and that was that, but on a cold night in October, Addy tears down everything they ever had, and Beth knows better than to try to fix it.

***

Beth turns seventeen while they’re in Dayton to compete at States. RiRi throws her a makeshift party in their shared hotel room, and all the girls come by and get drunk on shots of Fireball and cheap wine coolers. 

Except Addy never shows. She wasn’t expecting her to; Beth knows how seriously she takes Coach’s warnings to abstain from alcohol before competition. On any other occasion, Beth would reluctantly agree, but it’s her birthday and Beth just lost her best friend for good, so she gets wasted and wakes up with a splitting headache two hours before their call time. 

As they’re getting ready, she can’t help but keep glancing over at Addy, and Beth can tell her mind isn’t right—she’s carrying tension in her shoulders, and she’s got this look in her eye like everyone is out to get her. She wants nothing more than to cross the room and be at Addy’s side, encouraging and reassuring her—just like she’d always pictured doing when they finally experienced this moment—but Beth keeps her feet rooted where they are, watching.

In their team huddle, Coach French tells them to kick some ass, and that’s all she can say because the police are closing in on her husband back in Sutton Grove. They found a fingerprint in the bathroom, and Beth already knows it will lead back to one of the Frenches. She’s finally getting some power back within the squad, going after Coach while she’s on defense, and Beth is becoming the captain again, even without her lieutenant.

They stare up at the scoreboard after their routine, doe-eyed and glitter-faced, and the girls lose their mind when Sutton Grove High School appears on the screen next to the number five. 

None of them had expected fifth. Coach kept drilling top ten into their minds, trying to keep their hopes at bay while simultaneously motivating them, but even she looks excited by the news. It’s the first time Coach has smiled in weeks, and Beth wants to slap it off. She doesn’t though, just basks in the glory of a huge success and tries not to lock eyes with Addy amidst the jumping and screaming. Beth is elated, hasn’t felt this happy in a long time, but it fizzles away as quickly as it comes when she sees Addy hugging Coach with a massive smile on her face.

In the reception room of the convention center, Beth is just trying to squeeze through the crowds when a red haired woman sidesteps into her path. 

“Excuse me,” she says. “You’re the flyer from Sutton Grove, right?” A handsome guy in a well-pressed suit stops behind the woman.

“Um, yeah,” Beth replies. “Beth Cassidy.”

“Beth, my name is Ashley Draper,” the woman grasps Beth’s hand. “I’m an assistant coach for the UCF cheerleading squad. I was really impressed with your performance.”

Her eyes widen when she realizes what’s happening. She’s getting  _ recruited _ . Beth bites her tongue and puts on a winning smile. “Oh, thank you.”

“Jomo Thompson, University of Kentucky,” the man butts in for his own handshake. “Have you considered pursuing cheerleading in college, Beth?”

She almost laughs when the UCF coach glares at him. “I haven’t, no. Can’t afford it.”

“Well, UCF guarantees full athletic scholarships to all our squad members,” Ashley says, reaching into her shirt pocket. “Here is my business card. Feel free to give me a call to discuss the program, I think you’d be a great fit.”

Beth doesn’t have a chance to say thank you before the woman dissolves into the crowd, leaving her with the other coach who is fishing for his own business card. 

“How long have you been flying, Beth?”

“Since my freshman year,” she replies. “This is my second year as a captain.”

“Well, I see great potential in you.” The Kentucky coach hands her his own card. “I think you could do great things at the top of our stunt groups. And we give scholarships too. Give me a call.”

She’s almost through the crowd, smiling ear to ear, when she sees Addy in the hallway talking to a few adults in varying colors of polo shirts. As much as Beth wants to be bitter and angry that Addy is getting recruited too, she knows how badly Addy has wanted out of Sutton Grove, and she finds herself hoping she gets in somewhere good. 

***

The school bus has been in the school parking lot for thirty seconds when the place floods with police cars, sirens blaring as the girls load their bags out of the lower compartment.

Beth watches Faith Hanlon arrest Coach French as an accessory to the murder of Seargent William Mosley, and she flinches at the sound of the choked sob leaving Addy’s throat as they handcuff the blonde. 

Matt French killed Will, and Coach helped him clean it up while trying to cast suspicion on Addy. Exactly as she thought, exactly what she told Addy had happened, and yet Beth finds no satisfaction in being right about this. She can’t be comforted by the arrest, because if the cops are privy to Matt’s true motive, Beth might find herself tangled up in the web right alongside Addy.

But the cops never come. Beth wonders if Matt ever told them about the video, but she knows he pleads guilty at the trial, they both do, and Coach is lucky to only get twenty years next to Matt’s life sentence. She wonders what’ll happen to their daughter, if she’ll get adopted by a nice family or grow up abused by the foster care system. She wonders how Addy is doing. 

They don’t talk anymore, but Beth still sees everything, notices everything. She notices how frequently Addy gets pulled out of class—every day at ten-thirty, halfway through calc, and again on Tuesdays and Fridays at the end of the day. Beth speculates about her whereabouts until Addy comes back in and tells Brianna she was with the counselor at her mother’s behest. She supposes it makes sense, Addy must’ve told Faith everything that happened, and the thought makes Beth’s blood burn with envy because she wants to know, too—she wants to know what exactly made Addy decide their friendship was worth nothing to her. Beth has her own theory on what went down, thinks that maybe Coach asked Addy to come to the Towers that night—maybe Addy saw the body and it scarred her enough to warrant involvement from the school counselor. 

Bert finds them a new coach for the winter season, and Jessica Thomas looks a lot like Coach French—petite, blonde, a little mousey—but she certainly acts nothing like her. She’s 23, fresh out of college with no coaching experience, and it’s laughably easy for Beth to shove a metaphorical boot into Coach Thomas’s metaphorical throat and take control of her squad once again.

Thomas becomes the face of their operation, but Beth Cassidy is the name. Top Girl in her own right, and they ride the high of their successes in the fall all the way through basketball season.

They’re seventeen when spring sports begin, and Addy tries out for the track team instead of joining the rest of the squad’s gymnastics club—which consists of them screwing around on the trampoline and tumbling without a supervisor. Beth is affronted, and even though she’s done nothing but ignore Addy’s existence since that night at the Dairy Cream, she still feels Addy’s absence like a fresh stab wound. 

But the way Beth’s life continues without her, parties and college interviews and the bare minimum of schoolwork, it’s painful in a way Beth never expected. Not sharp or cutting, but an aching throb in her heart that ebbs and flows—flaring up when she drives past the track on her way home and sees Addy smiling with girls in neon running gear. Beth’s interior is nothing but broken walls, black holes of guilt and a wounded heart she thinks might be infected, but she does what’s necessary; puts on a smile and fakes it.

She convinces Bert to take her on college visits during spring break, and Beth finds herself confronting a reality she never thought possible—she’s falling in love with Lexington, Kentucky. The staff and existing team welcome her with open arms, and she even gets to try out a few stunts with them. Beth returns to Sutton Grove after spending half of spring break down south, and she feels satisfied with setting her eyes on being a wildcat.

RiRi tries to ask her about Addy one night, at a group slumber party after getting too drunk on the bleachers during gymnastics practice. They’re in RiRi’s bed, only inches between, the other girls asleep on the floor.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

Beth rolls over at the sound of her voice. “What happened with what?”

“With Addy,” RiRi says, and Beth’s blood runs cold. “I mean, I saw you guys that time, and I know she’s always been your favorite, but it’s hard to tell what really went on between you two.”

She hesitates, drawing in an uneven breath. Beth can’t help but think back to that day at the mall, almost a year ago, when Addy had her pinned up against a wall and RiRi walked in on them. Her heart aches for things to be that simple again.

“It’s complicated,” Beth replies. It isn’t really, she fell in love with her best friend and it ended in heartbreak. She knows RiRi would understand, but part of Beth wants to keep the whole thing a secret, only hers to be privy to. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” RiRi reaches for Beth’s arm and places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Beth doesn’t know what compels her to confess, but something about the softness in RiRi’s gaze lulls Beth into a sense of comfort.

“I was in love with her,” Beth whispers. “I still am.”

“Did you tell her?” RiRi asks, leaning closer to hear the precious truth, rare and raw from Beth’s mouth.

“Yeah.” Beth blinks her tears away, chewing on her bottom lip in an attempt to quiet the words in her mind playing over and over:  _ I did love you. Not anymore _ . “But everything is different now.” She can’t bear the look of pity in RiRi’s eyes so she rolls over to evade it, and she doesn’t sleep, because she never does. 

***

They’re seventeen, and they ring in senior year in the worst way possible for Beth: at cheer camp in Mansfield. This year, Beth notices nothing beyond how much of a downgrade it all is. She bunks above RiRi, and the little sleep Beth gets is polluted with dreams of Addy in bed with her—pinning her down, kissing her, making Beth writhe under her touch. Addy sleeps on the opposite side of the cabin and doesn’t so much as look in Beth’s direction for the entire two weeks, while every second of camp weighs heavier on Beth’s chest, threatening to crush her. 

The rest of the summer is spent with the girls—she, RiRi, Brianna and Cori become inseparable, bouncing from house to house for sleepovers and throwing rocks at the old factory windows. It’s painfully obvious how much Brianna and Cori like each other, and by August they’re in their own world of newfound sapphic love—leaving Beth and RiRi to themselves.

The sweltering heat makes them malleable, morphing their relationship into one that Beth can’t really identify. They kiss, sometimes more, and it’s definitely hot, but RiRi is sort of seeing Tibbs and Beth is busy reinforcing her walls before having to go back to school and share a mat with Addy again. But she thinks she can control it, keep RiRi at arm’s length without hurting her.

Not much changes when they go back to school. Beth’s foursome rules the school and the squad, and Addy keeps to herself, working hard at practice but skirting all of the group functions. Beth is surprised at how easy it is, as Top Girl, to ignore Addy altogether. RiRi is a captain, too, and she gives Addy any necessary instruction to save Beth from it.

Coach Thomas sits on the lip of the gymnasium stage on her phone every day, looking up occasionally to make sure the girls are on task, but the squad belongs to Beth. 

Before their first game, Cori makes a joke about RiRi being Beth’s new lieutenant, and Beth sticks a leg out and sends her tumbling to the ground, growling out a menacing “don’t ever say that shit again” in her face. She doesn’t know why it makes her so mad because it’s essentially true—RiRi is right where Addy was last year, by Beth’s side at her command—but RiRi isn’t Addy, she will never be Addy, no one can compare.

After their first game, Beth is jogging towards the tunnel when she sees Addy partly covered by a tall football player, their lips joined in a heated kiss, and Beth realizes why Cori’s comment made her so angry—she’s still in love with Addy Hanlon, and Beth can’t see herself shaking the feeling anytime soon. 

A week later, Beth spots Addy and the same football player holding hands on their way to class. When she asks RiRi, she informs Beth that they’re dating, and the words burn in her ears. Beth goes home and thinks of what they’ve done, and she sees red at the thought of someone else touching Addy, taking what’s  _ hers _ . 

The reminder that Addy is no longer hers makes Beth sob into her pillow, all the love and desperation she’s repressed spilling out with the saltwater. 

Beth channels the heartache into cheer, training daily outside of practice to give herself an extra edge before Regionals. It could be the last time the UKentucky coaches see her, and Beth wants to secure her ticket out of Sutton Grove. 

When the announcer in Columbus crowns them Regional Cheerleading Champions, Beth can only think of being twelve years old watching cheer videos on Addy’s hand-me-down laptop, watching a college team win Nationals.

“When we win a big competition, will we get rings, too?” Addy had asked, eyes wide and innocent as she stared Beth down.

“Oh, yeah,” Beth said with a grin. “I’ll put yours on for you, like this.” Beth slipped the opal ring she’d stolen from her mother onto Addy’s fourth finger, then brought it to her lips.

She meets Addy’s eyes as they’re handing the rings out, and her lips quirk into a miniscule smile at the memory, wistful and longing as Addy smiles back for a brief moment before turning away. 

They get back to work as soon as they return, foregoing celebration in favor of grueling practices before States. Beth is hungry for the win, they all are, and their dream shapes up to be incredibly attainable by the time the squad travels to Cincinnati in mid-December. 

“Okay, two girls to a room this time,” Coach Thomas says, turning to where the girls are gathered in the hotel lobby. “Brianna and Cori,” she reads from a clipboard, “Tacy and Krista, Beth and Addy, RiRi and Emily-”

“Hold up, Coach.” Beth steps forward. “I always room with RiRi.” She ignores the fact that there was a time when Beth would have given anything to share with Addy.

“Well, now you’re rooming with Addy,” Coach replies without looking up.

“Fine, I’ll just switch keys with Emily.” Beth turns to scour the squad looking for the girl in question, but there’s a hand on her wrist before she can move.

“You will not,” Coach Thomas says sternly. “No one is switching rooms with anyone, it’s a safety concern. I need to know where you are at all times, so you will be in your assigned room, Cassidy.”

“Or what?” Beth challenges. Thomas is spineless, doesn’t have the balls to punish her.

“Or I pull you from the routine,” she deadpans. “Don’t test me, Beth.” Coach Thomas distributes room keys, smiling sweetly at Addy and going sour when she reaches Beth. 

They have a few hours before their team dinner, so the squad bustles into an elevator and the girls into their respective rooms. Beth strides down the hall, Addy on her heels, until she reaches room 807, opens the door and-

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She stands in the doorway, dumbfounded, staring down the lone queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. Beth slowly paces the room, tosses her bag on the far side of the bed and follows Addy with her eyes as she breaches the doorway.

“Just our luck,” Addy says, setting her bag down on the floor. “Beth, maybe it’s better if we just don’t talk while we’re here. We can just ignore each other”

Beth scans Addy’s face, but it’s devoid of emotion, her eyes blank and glossed over. She’s probably right, it would be better to just ignore each other, but there’s a voice in Beth’s head nagging her to tear into Addy, to say  _ I told you so _ , to beg for her girl.

“Yeah,” she replies, even though it goes against everything Beth knows. Addy wants them to not talk, so they don’t, and Addy wants for them to ignore each other, so they do. 

Beth turns eighteen on the day of their competition, but she’s not even thinking about it, because this could be her last routine with the Sutton Grove Cheer Squad, and she wants to savor every moment of it. 

The stage lights are blinding as they run out onto the mat, waving and smiling brightly amongst the cheering. Beth is moving to her spot in the center when she feels a hand on her bicep, burning a handprint into her skin.

“Good luck,” Addy says with the ghost of a smile, and then she’s jogging to the back. 

Beth expects it to send her into a frenzy, but Addy’s touch steadies her and makes her smile that much wider. The music starts, a pulsing hip-hop anthem, and they nail everything—perfect stunts, flawless tumbling passes, and the energy from the crowd is unmatched. Beth can practically feel the recruiters salivating after them, and she thinks of how insane it is that their team is now renowned across the state of Ohio. She thinks of how much they want this win, how much they  _ deserve  _ it, and Beth is terrified of how much she wants it. 

Somewhere along the way, Beth had inadvertently made winning States one of two big goals—along with getting a full ride to the University of Kentucky—and she is determined to meet her goal. 

Beth is turning eighteen when they become Ohio cheerleading champions, and she feels like she’s finally becoming a person again, revitalized by the feeling of wanting something so badly and then  _ getting  _ it. 

The evening starts out with a raucous party in the hotel lobby, where the girls scream mixes of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BETH ANN” and “STATE CHAMPS BABY” loud enough that a concierge politely asks them to leave. Coach Thomas faux-scolds them in front of the man, then ushers them upstairs to continue but—she insists—quieter. 

Careful not to warrant a noise complaint as they stumble through the halls, the team somehow gets back to Beth and Addy’s room—probably because Beth’s duffel bag is the one weighed down with three bottles of vodka and a bag of weed. They’re giddy and drunk within minutes, bouncing from the bed to the floor to the balcony singing along to Brianna’s carefully crafted “States Celebration” playlist. Beth had scolded her for making it early, deeming it a jinx, but she’d been wrong. 

Well into the night, Beth is properly drunk and starting to feel the effects of an edible when she finds Addy taking a shot in the bathroom. She blames it on the alcohol and leans against the door frame, watching Addy toss the vodka back and set the plastic cup down.

Addy reaches for the bottle and pours another, wordlessly handing it to Beth. The liquid burns deliciously on its way down her throat, and her attempts to thank Addy are cut off by a loud knock at the door.

“Coach?” Beth asks as she opens the door, revealing Coach Thomas. 

“I’m not even going to ask what you guys are doing right now, but shut it down,” she says, but there’s no anger in her voice. “It’s almost three in the morning, and I’m tired of hearing Lizzo through the wall.” She leans past Beth into the hotel room. “Wrap it up, ladies!”

Five minutes later, the hotel room is empty and brightly lit again, empty cups and snack bags scattered around the premises. Addy is on the balcony, a joint lit between her fingers, and Beth doesn’t even think, just walks over and stands right next to her, close enough for their shoulders to touch. She plucks the joint from Addy’s hand and brings it to her lips.

“Just say it,” Addy says, staring out at the city below. 

Beth lets the smoke out in a slow stream. “Say what?”

“That you told me so.” Her words make Beth freeze.

“I never wanted to be right,” Beth replies, fighting to keep the waver out of her voice. “I didn’t want any of this.”

“And you think I did?” Addy turns to face Beth, and she already hates where this is going. They’re going to fight about Coach French again, and it’s the last thing Beth wants to do on her birthday after winning States. But it’s Addy, and if Beth hears her stand up for Coach even once, she’s going across the hall to sleep in RiRi’s room. 

“I don’t know what to think, Hanlon,” Beth says softly. She’s careful not to yell, makes a point not to.

“Well, you were right, okay? She was using me. She wanted to get rid of Sarge and frame me for it,” Addy says, voice quivering. “So you can just say you were right and be mad at me or whatever, because I know you hate me, so-”

“Are you kidding?” Beth asks, and she can’t believe her ears. “I have  _ never  _ hated you. You’re the one who said you didn’t love me. I never stopped loving you, but you insisted on pushing me away.”

“Beth-” Addy tries, but Beth steps right up to her, like she’s done so many times before.

“You don’t get to act like the victim here, because  _ you  _ broke  _ my  _ heart, not the other way around.” Beth can feel a sob rising in her throat, but she pushes it away. 

“Beth, I’m-”

“Tell me you don’t love me anymore,” Beth demands, cutting her off again.

“What?”  
“Look me in the eyes, and tell me you don’t love me anymore.” Addy has tears in her eyes, Beth is close enough to see them spill out, close enough to know that Addy can’t look at her.

“I can’t,” Addy sobs. “I can’t tell you that.” 

Beth’s heart crumbles to pieces in her chest from the strength of the words. But the fact that Addy is crying over the admission, albeit indirect, that she is still in love with Beth, it means that she isn’t processing it properly.

“Addy,” Beth whispers, lifting a hand to her cheek and wiping a tear away with her thumb. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Addy tilts her head in response to the touch, finally meeting Beth’s eyes, and the flood of emotion pouring over them nearly kills her. 

They’re seniors in high school, state champion cheerleaders, friends turned lovers turned enemies, and then they’re kissing on a hotel balcony in Cincinnati at three A.M. Beth gasps into the kiss, the one Addy leaned in for, and the bitter Ohio winter does nothing to stop the heat thrumming through her veins. 

Beth slips her hand along the nape of Addy’s neck as their lips clash in a frantic kiss.

She sees it in flashes—pulling Addy inside by the hands, kissing her up against the window, pushing Addy back onto the bed and straddling her hips in such a cruelly familiar position. It doesn’t even feel like she’s there—a result of the many drinks mingling with the marijuana—more like she’s watching herself from across the room. She sucks roughly at Addy’s neck, marking her up before she can protest, and proceeds to unzip Addy’s uniform and run her hands all over the exposed skin, landing at the hem of her sports bra.

Beth doesn’t have to ask her if it’s okay because Addy is sitting up and pulling it off herself, whining something that sounds like a plea for Beth’s hands on her tits, and who would Beth be if she didn’t comply?

Addy begs for more at every turn, shoving Beth’s head down to her center and cursing loudly when Beth finally yanks her panties down her legs, leaving Addy’s skirt on. Beth isn’t afraid to admit that she enjoys the hell out of the visual, Addy’s legs parted to reveal her dripping cunt under the cover of the skirt’s fabric. She goes to town on Addy’s pussy, drawing moans and shouts from her mouth as Beth teases her entrance with her tongue, thumb rubbing gently at her clit.

“Fuck, Beth, I need more,” Addy begs, bucking her hips into Beth’s face, and she lets out a long moan when Beth slides her tongue inside Addy’s clenching pussy. 

Beth can’t get enough of the taste of Addy, drinking her in like an addict getting their first fix after withdrawal. She switches her tongue with her fingers, curling them into Addy’s g-spot over and over while she takes a nipple into her mouth.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Addy whimpers, and Beth adds a third finger, speeding up the pace and leaning over Addy.

“Tell me,” Beth whispers into the crook of her neck. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Shit, Beth,” she whimpers, canting her hips to meet Beth’s thrusts, walls fluttering around her fingers. “Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna-”

Beth looks up just in time to watch Addy come, her eyes rolling back into her head as she falls apart under Beth’s touch, and it’s so fucking beautiful that she needs to see it again, and then a third time after she rides Addy’s face. They fall asleep naked and tangled up together, and it’s the best night’s sleep Beth has had in months. 

When she wakes up, Beth immediately thinks of the previous day. She turned eighteen, practically sealed the deal on UKentucky by winning States, and made Addy come more times than she could count.

But then she turns her head and sees nothing but white sheets, empty and tangled on the bed beside her. Beth sits up with a start, and the room is spotless—completely empty save for Beth’s own belongings.

Addy has already packed up and left. 

They had sex on Beth’s birthday, after months of silence, and Addy is nowhere to be found. Beth thinks of how easy it would be to swing both legs over the balcony and plummet eight stories to the pavement below. Addy certainly wouldn’t care, seeing as she’s broken Beth’s heart enough times to kill her. 

She shoves it all down inside, packing her stuff and blaring her heavy metal playlist for the entire bus ride, while the rest of the squad screams along to their own music. Beth feels like slapping herself over and over again, cursing herself for being so stupid, for letting Addy get under her skin again.

When Beth gets home and lies down on her couch, it hits her that the last thing Addy said to her was “I love you.” It’s fitting, really, that the one thing she longed to hear from Addy would now haunt her for the rest of her days.

***

In January, Beth is strolling down the candy aisle at the convenience store when she gets an email regarding her application to the University of Kentucky. The screen explodes with blue and yellow confetti, congratulating her on becoming a Wildcat. There’s another line on the bottom, with  _ Full Athletic Scholarship  _ in boldly fonted letters, and Beth is bouncing off the walls with excitement. It’s her third acceptance, but this is the one that matters, and Beth is so fucking happy she can barely breathe. 

The girls crash the basketball team’s party at Lanvers Peak, and Beth winds up drinking too much and making out with a lanky sophomore center, but she’s pushing him away before he can really get anywhere. Kissing him is boring at best, and revolting at worst, and Beth struggles to decide if she only likes kissing girls or if she only likes kissing Addy. But then she’s thinking about RiRi, watching her hips sway to the sultry hip-hop coming from someone’s car radio, and she’s thinking it’s the former. There’s no way a guy could do what RiRi is doing, quirking a finger towards Beth and summoning her forward with a devilish look in her eye.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a thousand miles away from me,” RiRi says with a pout, draping her arms around Beth’s shoulders, and Beth can’t think of anything but that night at the warehouse, holding Addy while she wrestled with the sight of Will’s dead body.

“It’s tragic, truly,” Beth laments, and she does mean it, but she’s as dry and sarcastic as always. “Technically, you’re the one going farther. Kentucky is closer to home than Miami.”

RiRi will be cheering for the Miami Hurricanes, and Beth is excited for her because she’s been listening to RiRi talk about UMiami as much as Beth has talked about Kentucky—they’re both living out their dreams together, and Beth’s head is on another planet. 

“What’re you thinking about?” RiRi asks, brushing the hair out of Beth’s face as they sway to the music.

“What a question,” Beth replies. 

“That’s not an answer,” RiRi pulls away a little, tenses up in her arms, and Beth can feel it coming, the way she felt her fight with Addy after States coming. It always comes back to Addy. “You were thinking about her. You’re thinking about her right now!”

Beth snaps out of her trance because RiRi has fire in her eyes, and RiRi is one of the only people who doesn’t hesitate to yell at Beth. “Ri, come on.”

“No! I’m so tired of this,” RiRi huffs, running her fingers through her hair. “I’m tired of always being second best for you, Beth. I have been here for you, all this time and you’re fucking stuck on her, just like she was stuck on Coach.”

Her eyes widen, jarred by how much she had misjudged this situation. While she’s been aching in pain over Addy, Beth has been hurting RiRi in the process. The comparison to Coach is ironically rich, because it’s scarily accurate—Beth runs to RiRi the way Addy would run to Beth, when she couldn’t get what she wanted from Coach, and Beth was doing the same thing, completely unbeknownst. 

“Fuck, Ri, I’m sorry,” she says, and the hole in her gut is growing, feeding off her guilt until it’s big enough to swallow her whole. “I’m so fucked up, I’m just as bad as Coach.”

And then, RiRi does what Beth imagines she would do if Addy broke down into tears in front of her. “Hey, B, it’s okay.” RiRi wraps Beth up in her arms again, holding her tightly to her chest as Beth lets out a sob. It feels terrible to be coddled like this, knowing she isn’t strong enough to support herself, and Beth has Addy to thank for that. 

At the last practice of the year, Beth’s last one ever, the seniors talk about where they’re going next year. A few girls are City Tech bound, but most of them got scholarships to cheer at various schools. Addy says she’s going to Louisville, and Beth is embarrassed by her excitement upon hearing they’d be near each other. There’s no reason to be happy about it, because Addy is well shacked up with her boyfriend—despite the events of States—and nothing in the cards points to Beth and Addy ever speaking again.

They’re eighteen, dancing under the pink spotlights at prom, but they’re not dancing together. Addy is in a tight red dress with her head resting on the football guy’s shoulder, and Beth watches with RiRi hanging off of her, complaining about the frenching masterclass Brianna and Cori are partaking in by the punch bowl. Beth is only thinking about the time they were eight and Addy insisted she wanted to wear a yellow dress to prom, because yellow is the color of dandelions, and Beth had to convince her that she would look much better in red.

They’re eighteen, and it’s the last time Beth sees her. 

***

In July, Beth makes the four hour drive to Lexington alone. She insisted on bringing her Jeep and rejected both Bert and her mother’s offers to come with her, packing the car up and setting off for training camp at UKentucky. The whole squad comes to campus a month early and spends almost every day in the gym, to focus on both individual and team growth. Beth is kind of terrified, but Coach Thompson reassured her that it would be the good kind of challenge. 

She’s been driving for an hour when she realizes she never said goodbye to RiRi or the other girls, not officially. Beth knows she could turn around—her move-in slot is three days long, and today is only the first—but she makes a conscious decision to keep driving, and in a way, it feels like she’s really leaving her own life behind. She’ll only be a manageable drive from her tiny hometown, but Beth has a feeling she won’t be coming back anytime soon. 

Five minutes into the first practice of camp, Beth realizes she’s completely out of her depth. There’s another freshman flyer, Katie, whose high school team came third at Nationals—Sutton Grove’s squad couldn’t afford the flights to Austin, so they scratched—and she’s just shy of perfecting her kick double toss, launching over and over while Beth watches.

“You tried one of those before?” Coach Thompson says, standing beside her.

Beth shakes her head. “I barely have my single.” Her mind flashes to the week they perfected it before Regionals last year, how many times she hit the ground under weak arms.

“Well, once you have one, it’s much easier to get that second rotation,” he replies and nudges her shoulder. “Go up and show me the single.”

She nods, and it feels so foreign to be on the bottom of the totem pole—Beth would take orders from practically anyone in this gym, and it’s jarring coming from a place where she owned the whole town. She ambles over to the stunt group and they’re all smiles, easing Beth’s nerves. It’s nothing she hasn’t done before—this time, it’s safer, because two of the bases are boys and they’re stronger than the Sutton Grove girls’ gummy worm arms. 

Beth keeps her body tight through the load out, waits for the count and kicks her leg out, rotating back down into the basket. She doesn’t need to see it to know it’s flawless; Beth lands perfectly on her back in the arms of the bases and stands tall on the dismount.. 

“That was perfect.” Coach T claps his hands. “Jesse, take Beth to the trampoline and help her work on that second rotation, okay?”  
A strong redhead in her stunt group sets a hand on her shoulder. “I’m Jesse, it’s great to meet you.” He leads Beth over to the large trampoline on the left side of the gym, and Beth can’t help but notice that he’s the most jacked cheerleader she’s ever seen. 

“So the principle of the double is the same,” Jesse explains as they climb the trampoline ladder. “Same load-in, same L-kick, same dismount. The only difference is the added power you need when pushing off.”

Beth listens intently, because Jesse is the expert here, not her. She takes his direction—practices the extra rotation by pushing harder off the trampoline, and each time she lands a little under, grunting in frustration. 

“Ooh, you’re so close,” Jesse exclaims after Beth lands on her side, just shy of the full second rotation. “Make sure you’re really snapping that leg in so you spin faster.”

She stands up again, brushes the friction burns on her knees, gets set up again. Jesse counts her in and she launches off a hard bounce, kicking her leg and landing on her side again.

“Damn it,” Beth grunts, kicking her toe against the trampoline.

“Hey, dude, it’s all good,” Jesse approaches her, smiling comfortingly. “It’s your first day. No one is expecting you to be perfect, and I definitely didn’t think you’d be this close. Try it again.”

“I can’t get it,” Beth says with a shake of her head.

“Okay, if you’re going to be my flyer, you can never say that,” Jesse scolds, but his tone holds more encouragement than anger. “Never say ‘I can’t.’ Then you’re just giving up, and giving up is way worse than failing a bunch of times. Try it again.”

Beth huffs—she’s so totally over this kick double, and now is the time she would walk away from this if they were still in Ohio—but she backs up and stretches her arms, gets set up and launches, makes two full rotations before she lands on her back.

Jesse is beaming at her, and Beth suddenly feels emotional, because no one has ever looked so proud of her. She’s only ever had herself, but on this squad, Beth thinks she might not be alone. 

They spend another ten minutes on the trampoline before Beth feels good enough to try the full stunt. She’s filled with fear—scared she’ll kick one of the bases in the face, scared she’ll under rotate and break a rib when she lands face down in the cradle—but Beth sucks it up and loads in, and the breath leaves her lungs as she kicks because Beth has never been thrown so high. None of the bad things Beth imagines actually happen; she flails a little in the air but other than that, the stunt is clean. She feels a clap on her back, and it’s a different guy telling her “good job,” while Coach T looks on with satisfaction.

The month of summer flies by like this—Beth trying out new stunts, laughing with newfound friends and getting stronger every day. She feels closest to Jesse, whose off-campus apartment is a short walk from Beth’s dorm room, and they get on like a house on fire. Beth already doesn’t want to think about next year, when Jesse will be a senior and graduate, because he’s kind and hilarious and pushes Beth to be stronger, to strive for more. 

Her closeness with her stunt group is what surprises Beth the most—because they’re all juniors, and she’s the baby of the group, and Beth has never been good at maintaining relationships where she doesn’t hold most, if not all of the control. But Jesse and Damien are her sturdy supporters, and Alyssa is the mom friend who checks Beth’s head when she lands wrong, so Beth feels loved and taken care of more than she ever has. Concentrating on nothing but cheer and friendships is perfect for Beth—they both provide optimal levels of distraction from her pain without overwhelming her.

When classes start, everything changes. Beth realizes that college is harder than high school by a mile, and Beth never really learned a lot in school to begin with. It starts with a Bio project whose deadline slips her mind, and then it’s a calculus problem set, and before she knows it, the work is piling up and Beth doesn’t even want to look at it.

By October, she feels like she’s walking around with a permanent rain cloud over her head. Beth rarely gets out of bed for her morning practices, she isn’t eating, snapping at practice and slacking off due to her lack of energy. It’s such a stark contrast from the summer that everyone notices, and Beth wants to tell them to get used to it, because this is the real Beth Cassidy, the one she’s been stuck dealing with for eighteen years. Except this  _ isn’t  _ Beth—she feels so much worse than she ever did at home, and she doesn’t know what it is. Nothing she’s doing is particularly hard on its own—her classes, cheerleading, making friends—but the combination of it all, amassed with the festering wound in her chest cavity, is making it really hard for Beth to breathe.

After another bad practice, spent slipping out of stunts and bobbling on her tumbling passes, Beth speedwalks from the gymnasium back to her dorm.

“Hey, Cassidy!” a voice calls from behind her. Beth can tell that it’s Jesse, speeds up her pace in hopes of escaping him. “Beth, wait up!” His fingers close around Beth’s wrist, and the contact makes her jump on instinct.

“What?” she turns to face him, yanking her arm away.

“I’m worried about you,” Jesse says, cutting right to the chase. “We all are. I know freshman year can be an adjustment, it’s perfectly normal to struggle-”

“I’m not struggling,” Beth cuts him off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and you can stop pretending that you are,” he says softly. “College is really different to high school, and the team comes with a lot of pressure. That’s why Kentucky has a sports psychologist on staff.”

Beth can’t believe that Jesse, a guy she met three months ago, is standing here suggesting she see a therapist. She wants to scream at him, asking where he gets off insinuating that she’s sick, that she needs help, but it all dies in Beth’s throat.

She’s always been fucked up, always just accepted it and buried it under piles of alcohol and control. But Beth has been through so much—between her father, Kurtz and everything with Addy—maybe under the pressure of her new life, it’s starting to spill out through the cracks. 

She turns away wordlessly, and Jesse lets her go. But when she gets to her dorm, Beth surprises herself by calling Bert.

“Beth Ann!” he exclaims after picking up on the second ring. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” Beth replies, “and I need you to just not say anything about it, okay?”  
“Sure, sweetie,” Bert says. “What do you need?”

“I need a shrink.”

***

Apparently, Dr. Elaine Covey is the best therapist in Lexington, but Beth takes everything Bert says with a grain of salt, especially when she shows up to her first session and discovers that the best therapist in Lexington is no older than thirty-five.

But then it turns out that Dr. Covey is no joke. 

Beth didn’t want to see the school shrink, someone who could easily be counseling half her team and spilling all her secrets, and because she didn’t really need  _ sports  _ counseling. It’s all the other shit that needs sorting out.

Dr. Covey is, in a word, easygoing—she speaks softly but it verges on casual, immediately working to disengage Beth’s defense mechanisms before she even knows what they are. 

Beth is taken aback by her willingness to participate. Covey asks about her life, her family, childhood, and Beth tries to be as honest as possible without baring her entire soul, but then she’s zeroing in on a piece of information, asking Beth to  _ elaborate on that _ —and she does.

Every Wednesday at 5:30, Beth lays on her stomach on the tacky blue couch in Dr. Covey’s office and spills her guts. She calls herself a control freak, and Covey dismantles the idea, breaks it down into causative incidents that made Beth the way she is. Her father leaving took away control, so Beth sought it back. Kurtz taking advantage of her took away control, so she sought it back.

“Addy leaving me took away control,” Beth says, reduced to a low mumble.

“Let’s talk about Addy,” Dr. Covey pivots, sitting up in her chair. Beth had yet to go into detail about the events of junior year, and she could feel Covey’s interest pique from across the room. “When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Like, a year ago,” Beth replies, and she’s not comfortable on her stomach anymore. It feels submissive, and she senses the need to be on alert. “On my birthday, while we were in Cincinnati for States.”

“And what happened?”

“Um…” Beth hesitates, feels the instinct to bite her tongue. “We, uh- We hadn’t been talking, and we got into a fight.”

“What was your relationship like before then?” Covey asks. “You’ve been friends a long time?”

Beth smiles, wistful at the thought of their earliest memories together. “Yeah, since we were kids. And then it… I don’t know, it sort of became, more.” Her cheeks flush at the confession.

“In a romantic sense?”

“Yeah,” Beth confirms with a nod, staring at the grey carpet below her feet. She wants to lean down and pick at it, but Beth isn’t five years old.

“Beth, I want you to describe your feelings for Addy to me,” Dr. Covey says. “Just, however you feel about her.”

It feels stupid, so stupid that Beth’s cheeks are burning with embarassment, but she’s been here four times already and only skirted around the topic of Addy. She knows she won’t get anywhere that way, and Beth desperately wants to get somewhere.

“She was my best friend,” Beth murmurs. “We were best friends. Inseparable. And I- I fell in love with her. Like, fully in love. I chased her in circles, made her chase me… God, we just made each other crazy, but I was so fucking in love with her.”

“You were?” Dr. Covey questions, and it’s not judgmental, just sounds like she wants to know.

“I still am,” she revises.

“So what happened on your birthday?” Covey circles back, and Beth admires her recall.

“She told me that I should say ‘I told you so,’” Beth replies, shifting to lie down again. “Because I was right about something, and I kept trying to tell her but she wouldn’t listen.”

“What were you right about?”

Beth can’t hold back a laugh. “What’s your confidentiality policy?”

Dr. Covey laughs along with her. “To the cops? Only things that tell me you’re a danger to yourself or others.”

“Then I was right about our cheer coach’s husband murdering her side piece,” Beth deadpans. “Shoved a gun in his mouth and killed him.”

“And Addy didn’t believe it?” Covey asks.

“Coach French was manipulating her, it isn’t-” she stops herself, takes a deep breath, staves off her unceasing need to come to Addy’s defense. “It’s not that simple. She didn’t want to believe it.”

“So you were right about what happened to…” Covey searches for a name.

“Sarge Will,” Beth provides. “Yeah, so she wanted me to tell her I was right, and then she tried to say that I hated her, so we started fighting because I could never hate her. And then she kissed me.”

“You’ve kissed before?”

Beth nods. “She kissed me, and then, we… we had sex, in Cincinnati after we won States.”

Dr. Covey sits forward, elbows on her knees, and Beth feels like she’s being gutted like a fish, but everything that’s coming out is festering and rotten, scooped away and leaving her insides empty but with room to heal.

“And then she left,” Beth says, a tear slipping down her cheek. “And we didn’t talk. Ever again.” She’s crying freely now, for what is the first time in this office, but it doesn’t bother her much because all Beth is doing is reliving that night, when she was so close to Addy after spending so much time apart, and then she was gone. She thinks of everything—the first day of kindergarten, the dandelions, tumbling and teasing and fighting and kissing; Beth thinks about the playground, and the mall, and Addy’s room and her own basement, all the places they’ve been and everywhere Beth had wanted them to go.

Addy broke her heart, over and over again for thirteen years.

Thirteen years, and she’s in therapy, and Beth is still in love with Addy. 

But therapy works, and Beth is so  _ mad  _ that it’s actually helping—even though she isn’t really, she just hates that she’d been wrong about it for so long. Beth starts to notice the effects at practice first, in the way she pushes out a little harder than before, smiles a little wider when she nails a toss. Alyssa notices too, smiles back at her, and Beth realizes how pretty she is, with tanned skin and legs for days. 

Then it seeps into school, mostly because Dr. Covey instructed her to ask Jesse to call her every morning to make sure she attends her first class. It’s calculus, and Beth has been cheating off Addy in math since grade school, so it all looks like gibberish for a while, until Beth finds the motivation to watch video lectures online to bridge the gap. By winter, Beth is kind of scared of herself because she’s starting to like math, appreciating the problem-solving aspect, how she can manipulate an equation to a desired outcome.

Little by little, Beth starts to revel in the sunshine more and more until one day, she just feels lighter.

December in Kentucky is mild enough that Beth wears a short red dress with no jacket to her birthday party—which is actually the basketball team’s season-opener party that the cheer team crashes. Some of the boys have converted the living room of their shared house into a dance floor, and the miniscule kitchen is piled high with various bottles and cases of beer. It was Jesse’s idea that they all come here, the four of them—but he’s off flirting with a point guard the moment they walk in, and Beth kind of wants to sulk after being left alone on her birthday, but Alyssa is handing her a drink before she can think about it. They’ve gotten closer since basketball season started, due to the existence of the smoothie bar inside the stadium—Beth and Alyssa  _ have  _ to stop every time they pass it, as if it’s a sign or something. 

“What’s in this?” Beth swirls the solo cup. She doesn’t care about the kind of alcohol, but Beth does want to know who made the drink.

“I… don’t know, so don’t drink that,” Alyssa says, plucking the cup from Beth’s hands. “I’ll make you one.” Her smile is bright, tongue poking between her teeth as she turns and heads back to the kitchen. 

Of all the parties Beth has been to at Kentucky, this one is the most like something you’d see in Sutton Grove—small house, low ceilings, dated furniture, but filled with life and various pheromones. The place is a mess already, beer cans and red cups littering the floor, and there’s a few guys passing a bong around in the corner. On the dance floor, two girls are grinding to the sultry R&B blaring through the house, and Beth shudders at the familiarity, sees Addy grinding her ass into Beth’s hips when her eyes fall shut.

“Here,” Alyssa says, handing Beth two cups. “This is a cherry mix, and that one’s straight vodka.” She doesn’t hesitate to toss back her own, and Beth watches the ripple of Alyssa’s throat as she swallows.

“Thanks,” Beth replies and downs the vodka, then takes a sip of the cherry concoction to chase it down. She thinks maybe she shouldn’t drink too much, because Beth is meeting Coach Thompson in the gym early in the morning to work on her whip to layout tumbling transitions. But just as she’s thinking of abstaining, Alyssa untucks a blunt from behind her ear and dangles it in the air.

“Should we tell Damien?” Beth asks, since he’s the one who rolled it, but Alyssa is already grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the back door, leaning up against the patio railing.

“Our little secret,” Alyssa says with a coy smile, reaching into the pocket of her leather jacket for a lighter. She’s looking very 50s chic, white shirt and black pants with a pair of Chucks, and Beth can tell the jacket is authentic.

Beth reaches for the lit blunt and pulls deep, lungs filling with smoke. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” She gazes at Alyssa through the wisps of grey, watches the way her lashes flutter over green eyes, the wide set of her shoulders, the clenching muscle in her jaw. Beth is sweltering, even though they’re outside, and by the time they’ve run the blunt halfway down, she identifies the culprit.

They end up dancing somehow, right where she’d seen the girls earlier, but Beth can only stand it for half of the song before she’s leaning in and crashing their lips together. Alyssa’s hands fly to her waist, pulling their bodies flush as their lips move in a heated kiss, and Beth feels weak as Alyssa slips her tongue into her mouth.

But then the reality of it sets in for Beth, that she’s kissing her teammate in the middle of a party in the South, and she’s not fully over Addy or ready to pursue anyone—so she pulls away.

“Sorry,” Beth says meekly, because she didn’t even ask, didn’t give Alyssa a chance to stop her or push her away.

“It’s all good,” Alyssa replies, and she’s smiling like it is. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine, it’s just…” she trails off, unsure of how to proceed, but Beth decides to just be honest for once in her life. “I’m still getting over some stuff, shit that fucked me up. I don’t want to drag you into something and then hurt you because I’m not ready to have something real.”

“That’s grown up shit, B,” Alyssa replies. “I’m impressed. And I’m proud of you for knowing what you can and can’t handle.” 

“Thanks.” Beth can’t help the blush creeping up her neck as Alyssa smiles at her, and she wraps her arms around Alyssa’s shoulders, falling into her embrace. She nearly forgot how good this feels, to be held, and Beth hates her stupid brain for selecting the “All The Times Addy Held You” folder and browsing through the memories. 

Beth turns nineteen in the arms of a new girl, who turns out to be exactly what she needs, right when she needs it. Not too much, but enough to make Beth feel safe and loved in a time where that’s hard for her to come by.

***

In February, Beth travels to Georgia with her to compete in NCA Regionals. It’s her first real college competition, the first one with stakes—and Beth is bursting at the seams with excitement. She shares a room with Alyssa, who recently started dating a backstroker on the swim team. Beth doesn’t mind, because they’re still friends and Beth knows that Alyssa wanted more than she could give her.

The evening before their competition day, Beth and Alyssa barge into Jesse and Damien’s room looking for something to do. There’s two beds, but both guys are sitting shoulder to shoulder as they watch some superhero movie, and Beth wonders if there’s something going on between them. Damien suggests buying a few six-packs and heading out to the beach, and then they’re waiting for Jesse outside the liquor store because he’s the only one over 21 and running onto the cool sand when he returns. 

There’s a group huddled around one side of a bonfire, and Beth can tell they’re cheerleaders by their matching black and red jackets. Dame and Jesse lead the way towards them, and once Beth is close enough, she can make out a cardinal on the left breast pockets of the zip-ups—it’s Louisville.

Beth is searching the group frantically, scanning them up and down while her heart pounds with anxiety, but Addy isn’t there. The team is friendly enough, a few of them introducing themselves before closing off into their own group. She isn’t surprised by it, maybe they see this as fraternizing with the enemy, but Beth just takes a beer and laughs with her friends, willing away the residual nerves from her scare.

It’s only later, when Beth is already thinking about leaving, that she spots a trio of girls strolling down the beach, heading right for them, Addy Hanlon at the forefront. 

Addy doesn’t see her for a moment, acknowledging her teammates before she looks up, their eyes locking over the flames. It hits her all at once, the reality of how long it’s been—since she looked into Addy’s eyes, since she heard Addy’s voice—setting in. 

Beth feels like she’s about to die because she doesn’t dare look away, and Addy is the one who turns her back first. In another life, maybe Beth would go up to Addy, confront her, call her out for all the horrible things that happened during their friendship.

Instead, she turns to Alyssa and asks if they can leave, and Beth walks away without looking back.

Hours after they compete, the University of Louisville squad takes to the mat, and part of Beth wants to observe Addy in the light—wants to drink her in like she always used to—but a larger part of Beth wins out, and she has to look away. 

But then they go up for awards, and Kentucky, Louisville and UCF make up the top three, so Beth is still tensed up and anxious when she watches Addy walk up to receive her team’s third place trophy. And when they win the whole thing, Beth feels sick to her stomach, because she’s not even thinking about her team—she’s thinking about Addy.

Thinking about Addy becomes all too common in Beth’s life after Regionals. Dr. Covey tells her that with Addy not around, Beth may have gotten comfortable, and seeing her again sparked feelings.

It starts with a dream, her first night back from Georgia. They’re in the hotel room in Cincinnati, but Addy is on top of her, pinning Beth’s hands above her head as she kisses every inch of her body and Beth begs for her touch. She wakes up with a start, and she blames it on the still-present buzz from her last joint, but Beth can’t help it—she slides a hand into her shorts and thinks about Addy’s hands, her mouth, her face when she comes, and Beth does her best impression of it. 

After that, she’s everywhere again. Beth thinks about her constantly—at practice, she reminisces about evenings on the trampoline perfecting flips; at parties, Beth is thinking about all the drinking and laughing and screwing around they did, and at night she’s graced with all the screwing they could do. But the change is noticeable—what Beth once saw as a virulent infection has become a powerful infatuation, a yearning for all the good in what she and Addy had. She can’t help but fixate on every fight they’ve ever had, combing through and scolding herself for holding on too tightly, for suffocating Addy until she had no choice but to tear herself away.

Dr. Covey tells her it’s normal to want to go back and fix mistakes, that it’s a sign of growth, and Beth feels compelled to agree. She feels better, lighter, unburdened of desire to act out to seize attention and control. There are bad days, where Kurtz haunts her in sleep, where she’s barely gotten enough sleep after practicing, performing, and then partying after the game, and Beth feels herself slipping under, struggling to stay afloat.

There’s always someone there to grab her hand, though, and Beth knows it’s okay to ask for that hand sometimes. She just wishes she’d learned it all sooner, because then maybe, she’d still have Addy.

“You don’t want to  _ have  _ Addy,” Dr. Covey reminds her, on an unusually cold day in March.

“I want to be with her,” Beth revises, sprawled out on the blue office couch. “I always called her my girl, made her say it. But I should’ve been trying to be hers.”

“You want to belong to Addy?”

Beth flushes at the words, biting her bottom lip. “I mean… no,” she says. “No, I want to be with her. No one belongs to anyone, we’re our own people.” For a moment, it feels like she might just be saying it for Dr. Covey’s benefit, but Beth knows it’s true.

“Have you thought about calling her?” Covey asks, and Beth shoots up.

“Are you kidding?” she exclaims. “No, I haven’t thought about  _ calling  _ her! Why would I want to call her?”

“To try and repair things between you two?” Dr. Covey poses, tone always easygoing.

“I can’t-” Beth starts, hears Jesse’s voice in her head, “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Beth, I’ve been seeing you once a week for four months, and you’re nothing short of verbose,” Covey says with a chuckle. “In a good way. I think you’d know what to say.”

Maybe she would. Maybe Beth would apologize for the way she treated Addy, for manipulating and using her. Maybe she’d tell Addy that she’s been thinking about her almost every second since seeing her at Regionals, and Beth would tell Addy that she still loves her, that she never stopped but now it feels different, undiluted. 

She almost does, a few times, but Beth can never make the final leap and press the call button. She doesn’t call Addy, electing to constantly think about what would happen if she did.

***

The months before Nationals dwindle to weeks, and Kentucky gets assigned their competition group—composed of themselves, Texas Tech, South Carolina and Louisville. Beth spends her last month before competing in Daytona Beach freaking out about seeing Addy again. She is nowhere near calm despite Dr. Covey’s best efforts to equip her with mindfulness techniques, and her leg bounces up and down for the whole flight.

Beth knows they’ll have a day of practice before they compete, and Kentucky will be sharing the gym with the other schools in their heat—which means sharing a gym with Addy for several hours, while she’s supposed to be training for the most important day of her life thus far. She hears Covey’s voice in her head, saying  _ well if you’re really that worried about getting distracted, just don’t look at her _ , so that’s Beth’s game plan: don’t look at her. 

When they arrive in Florida and check in at the hotel, a group in red and black are shuffling towards the elevator, and Jesse eyes her knowingly. She told him everything on the plane, when he kept asking about Beth’s incessant leg shaking. Her luck is ridiculous, and Beth shudders because she and Addy don’t have a great track record in hotels. 

Coach Thompson sneaks them into the practice gym twenty minutes early, so they’re already warmed up and stunting when the other teams shuffle in, and Beth is up high in a liberty when she spots Addy bent over stretching her calves across the gym. 

She averts her eyes, smiles like she’s in front of a crowd and signals her descent.

But Beth’s plan to simply ignore Addy is a garbage plan, and it doesn’t even last five minutes, because Beth can hear Addy’s voice carrying across the gym, twinges of laughter coming out as she chats with her teammates. Her heart clenches, because it wasn’t too long ago that Addy was laughing with Beth, and she thinks that they could be on the same side of the gym right now if things had been different.

Every time Beth goes up for a stunt, she watches—watches Addy’s increasingly toned limbs hoist her new top girl into the air, watches the wisps of hair stick to her forehead as she sweats, watches Addy scan the gym during a water break, and Beth sees the moment Addy sees her.

She sees the moment Addy smiles at her, while Beth is at the top of her pyramid, and she smiles back with no hesitation. The flutter in her heart is nearly impossible to contain, but then Coach T is ushering them into the hallway, onto the bus and back to the hotel.

In the morning, Beth is sitting on a table in the dressing room doing Alyssa’s eyeliner while the team prepares for their performance. She’s nervous, sure, but Beth has become oddly trusting of her team, so much so that she doesn’t even mind the single-base stunts Kentucky is famous for. Beth trusts Jesse to hold her up, trusts the spotters to catch her if she falls.

Their routine is nearly flawless, except for one X-out tuck that Katie under rotates, but it isn’t enough to deny them the title of NCA champions—they edge out Texas Tech by two points, and Louisville is behind them by one. Every single Wildcat is grinning ear-to-ear, hoisting their 25th national trophy in the last 40 years. Beth is crying with joy, clinging to Jesse in an overzealous bear hug, but he eventually sets her down so the announcer can pass out the team’s medals.

Out of the corner of her eye, Beth can see Addy standing at the edge of her team, staring straight at her as a bald man lifts the medal over Beth’s head. Eventually, they’re told to clear the stage, and Beth is moving to catch up with Alyssa and Damien when she feels lips ghosting her ear.

“Congratulations,” a voice whispers in Beth’s ear, and then she sees Addy walking away from her with a shy grin.

Beth is riding high when they return to the hotel, where the upperclassmen are feeding drinks from the bar to the rest of the team. She’s well on her way to wasted when someone emphatically suggest they go for a swim in the hotel pool, and Beth doesn’t have time to question it before her friends are dragging her down the hall to the pool that’s occupied with-

“Oh, shit.” Beth stops dead in her tracks, digging her nails into Jesse’s forearm. “Nope, not going in.”

“Oh my God, there she is!” Jesse whisper-shouts, pointing to the hot tub through the glass, where Addy is sitting with the same two girls from the beach. “Come on, let’s go.”

Beth enters the pool area kicking and thrashing, but she stills her movements when her body heats up the way it always does when Addy looks at her. She shucks off her clothes and dumps them on a lounge chair in the corner, turning around to find Jesse, Damien and Alyssa conspiring against her by sliding into the large hot tub.

“Hurry up, bitch!” Alyssa slurs, waving Beth over.

She walks over as steadily as possible even though Beth is freaking out, because after all this time Addy is  _ right there _ , right in front of her, in minimal clothing. 

“Hey.” Beth hears it but she doesn’t immediately realize what’s happening, that she’s sitting right next to Addy because it’s the only space available.

“Hi,” Beth replies, and she’s already breathless. Seeing Addy up close is like admiring the finest artwork, and Beth wants to sit here and study every inch; she wants to count her eyelashes, connect the faint freckles dotting the bridge of her nose.

“Congrats on your win,” Addy says, and Beth is overwhelmed by the sincerity pouring out of Addy’s eyes.

“Thanks.” She’s blushing, shy under Addy’s gaze for what is probably only the second time. “You guys were great, too.” She wants to say  _ you were great _ , because that’s all Beth could really concentrate on.

“How’s UK treating you?” Addy asks, then laughs to herself. “I can’t believe I’m being seen talking to a wildcat.”

“Careful, I don’t think cats and birds get along too well,” Beth teases, and the way Addy grins in response is like a shot of heroin in Beth’s veins. It feels easy between them, easier than Beth had ever expected.

“Well I think we’re getting along just fine,” Addy remarks.

“You’re right,” Beth agrees. “And Kentucky is good, I really love it there. I’ve been doing a lot better, actually.”

“Yeah?” Addy’s lip quirks before she draws it between her teeth, and Beth can feel Addy’s gaze drop to her lips for a moment. “I’m really glad to hear that. I’ve been doing better, too. Talking to someone.”

“Me too.” Beth hesitates for a moment, thinks maybe it’s too much information, but then she realizes it’s in response to Addy’s own confession. “I feel like I’ve had a chance to really work through my biggest issues. Still a process, though.”

“That’s great, I’m really happy for you. I feel the same way about myself,” Addy says, nodding along, but then she’s looking down at the steaming water, and Beth can’t tell if the redness in her cheeks is from embarrassment or the heat. “Are you, um… Are you seeing anyone?”

Beth nearly chokes on her own spit, and she coughs unevenly while Jesse slaps her back.

“She is not.” Alyssa leans forward to inform Addy, words slurring together at the ends. “She was seeing me, but now I have a very pretty girlfriend who is not Beth. Not that Beth isn’t pretty. But you already know that.”

Beth wants to strangle Alyssa right here and now, but the sound of Addy’s laugh is enough to make her hold back. Addy collects herself again, sits up a little straighter and looks Beth right in the eyes.

“Yeah,” she says. “I do know that.”

They stay in the hot tub long after the surgeon general recommends one exits, trading cheer stories and tales of Kentucky locals in their respective cities until both Addy and Beth’s friends have excused themselves from the tub. 

“So are  _ you  _ seeing anyone?” Beth asks, sipping from Damien’s abandoned flask on the edge of the tub. The alcohol emboldens her, and Beth is thankful that her base left it here.

Addy shakes her head.

“Not even that guy from the football team?” she presses.

“Andy? God, no,” Addy replies. “We broke up when I left. He was not worth long distance.”

“Wait, you dated a guy named Andy?” Beth says, incredulous. “Andy and Addy. That sounds like a sock puppet show on a local news channel that no one watches.”

“Hey, he was nice,” Addy protests, reaching out to lightly punch Addy’s arm. “I always knew where I stood with him, you know?”

Beth does know, how could she not? Addy’s words feel pointed, and she feels the need to air out all their dirty laundry, right here and now.

“I have so many things to apologize for,” Beth starts, “but I’m most sorry for always trying to control you. For making things hard for you, like, constantly.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Addy replies, eyes softening as a shimmer coats them. “I should have listened to you about Coach, she was using me and I was too obsessed with her to see it. And I didn’t even see how much you were hurting.” Addy reaches her hand out to touch Beth’s arm, and it’s soft and tender in a way Beth has been longing to be touched by Addy.

“It’s all okay now,” Beth says, searching Addy’s eyes for a sliver of emotion, but for now, she’s staying guarded. “There’s no sense in worrying about all the bad shit. It’s in the past.”

“Yeah.” Addy’s thumb is stroking her bicep, and Beth’s body is contorted so she can face Addy. “It’s all in the past.”

With a quick glance, Beth determines that the pool area is empty, and her eyes fall to Addy’s face again, and this time, Addy is looking at her the same way she looked three years ago on that rainy night at the playground. All the fighting, all the crying and shit-talking and manipulating falls away, and Beth swings a leg over Addy’s hips and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. Beth feels her whole body come alive as Addy kisses her back, sliding a hand into her wet hair and pulling her impossibly closer. It’s more skilled than any of their prior meetings, but Beth can feel the fervor behind Addy’s movements as she slips her tongue into Beth’s mouth.

It’s everything Beth has ever wanted and impossibly more—she’s back in Addy’s presence, and they’ve both grown tenfold from where they used to be. The bitter power struggle is gone, Beth just rocks into Addy’s lap and gasps when she feels lips and teeth along her neck.

“Um, excuse me,” a loud voice echoes through the poolhouse and sends Beth jumping away from Addy. “The pool closes at midnight, you two can’t be in here.”

Beth and Addy scramble for their towels and she’s afraid to meet Addy’s eyes, worried that everything will fall apart again if she looks at her. But as she stands shivering in the hallway, Addy closes the space between their bodies and kisses her oh so gently, like she’s afraid Beth will shatter into pieces.

They stumble up to Addy’s room in a fit of giggles, stopping occasionally to pin each other against walls and elevator doors. Beth doesn’t feel bad at all because she’s been addicted to Addy’s lips since the first time they kissed, and she’s getting her first fix in who knows how long.

Addy is fumbling with her keycard while Beth mouths over her neck, scrapes her teeth along Addy’s skin to burst the capillaries below. The door finally clicks open, and Addy is pushing Beth inside and onto the bed by her hips, crawling up and over her.

“Wait, where’s your roommate?” Beth asks, propping herself up with her elbow, because she can see two sets of belongings strewn about the room.

“Probably fucking her boyfriend,” Addy says with a shrug. “So it works out.”

Beth considers laughing, but she figures pulling Addy into a kiss is a better use of her mouth. Addy’s mouth trails down her neck as she unwraps Beth’s towel, warm hands trailing up her exposed torso to cup her breasts over the damp fabric.

“Fuck,” she curses, arching her back into Addy’s touch, eager for more.

“Shh,” Addy soothes, pulling the sports bra up and over Beth’s head. “Let me take care of you.”

And take care she does. Beth is on her back for at least an hour, coming over and over again in Addy’s mouth, around her fingers, grinding on her thigh. She gets her revenge, though, by edging Addy for another hour until she finally explodes in extacy. Later, Addy is in Beth’s lap, rocking into her curling fingers, and she looks so beautiful and liberated that Beth can’t help but shed a tear.

“Fuck, Beth, I’m so close,” Addy cries, resting her head on Beth’s shoulder as she cants her hips.

“Come for me, baby,” she whispers, and Addy gushes all over her hand, walls spasming around her fingers. She kisses Addy’s forehead and down to her jaw until her orgasm is fully ridden out and Addy is rolling off of her.

“Beth,” Addy whines, arms open, and Beth is hit with a freight train of love.

She falls into Addy’s embrace without hesitation, fitting perfectly into Addy’s side like Beth is made to be there.

“Psst,” she hears Addy say, and Beth cranes her neck to look at her. “I’m in love with you.”

Beth forces herself to sit up, to shake her head and pinch herself because this isn’t real, this is not really happening, it can’t be. “What?”

“I love you,” Addy repeats, more sure of herself than Beth has ever heard her. “I’ve always been in love with you, it was just- Other shit got in the way. But I don’t want anything to get in the way of this, because it’s… It’s too good to let go of again.”

Beth doesn’t even realize she’s crying until Addy is sitting up and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“Oh, B, it’s okay,” she coos, wrapping an arm around Beth’s midsection. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot-”

“I’m in love with you too,” Beth rushes out in between gasping breaths. “I am, I- I never stopped loving you.”

Beth burrows herself into Addy’s arms and falls asleep with Addy’s hand running through her hair as Addy whispers  _ I love you, I love you, I love you _ , repeating it over and over like she doesn’t want Beth to forget.

In the morning, the empty space next to Beth is excruciatingly familiar, and she forces herself not to panic. All of Addy’s belongings seem to be untouched upon Beth’s visual inspection, but the bathroom door is ajar and she can tell that it’s empty.

She’s about to wrap a sheet around her naked body and dig through her clothes for her phone when the hotel door swings open. Addy enters the room with two paper plates stacked high with food, setting them on the edge of the bed with a smile.

“Morning,” she says and leans in to capture Beth’s lips. “I got us breakfast.”

“I see that,” Beth chuckles at the comical amount of food Addy has collected on both plates. There’s toast, bagels, bacon and eggs, as well as an assortment of fruit. “Feeding an army, are we?”

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got everything.” Addy blushes, and Beth wants to pull her closer and whisper a million thank yous, because it’s such a sweet gesture.

“I thought you left me,” Beth blurts out, unsure of where it even came from, but she’s glad she said it the moment it’s out.

Addy shoves the plates aside, crawls onto the bed and scoops Beth up in her arms, holding her close to her chest.

They’re nineteen, in college, and Beth is hearing the words she’s been dying to hear her whole life.

“I’m never leaving you again.”

***

Beth swings her jeep into the student parking lot outside her dorm building, and she notices a bright red minivan a few spaces over, one that looks just like the car Faith gifted to Addy after graduation. She swings her keys on the way up to her dorm, sore in the thighs from an excruciating practice. They ran the homecoming game routine over and over again, and Beth has a few new bruises on her torso from botched landings and too-tight cradles, as well as the ever-present tenderness in her bad shoulder.

When her door creaks open, Beth nearly has a heart attack at the sight of Addy standing in the middle of her dorm, bouquet of flowers and poster paper in hand.

“Hey, stranger,” Addy says with a smile.

Beth bypasses the roses and the poster and goes straight for her girlfriend, throwing her arms around Addy’s shoulders as her legs wrap around Addy’s waist, lips locking in a passionate kiss. It’s been over a month since they’ve seen each other, and Beth has been struggling with the adjustment after spending all summer together in Louisville. But now she’s here, in the middle of Beth’s dorm room, and she has to backtrack in favor of understanding the situation.

“What are you doing here?” she questions, lowering herself to the ground. 

“I wanted to surprise you.” Addy holds out the bouquet of red roses, and Beth accepts them with a massive smile as she reads the lettering on the poster.

“‘Will you cheer me up and tumble your way to HoCo with me?’” Beth reads aloud. “Aw, baby, that is so fucking cheesy.”

“I was pressed for time, okay?” Addy huffs, bottom lip jutting out in a pout, but Beth knows it’s all for show.

“Busy being captain of her damn squad,” Beth says pridefully, slipping her arms around Addy’s waist. Addy had become Louisville’s first sophomore captain in over two decades by working her ass off every single day, and Beth has never admired someone more.

“You didn’t give me an answer,” Addy whines.

“Yes, I will tumble to homecoming with you,” Beth replies with a shake of her head, and she can’t believe her girlfriend is such a sap, but she also still can’t believe that Addy is her girlfriend, that Addy is here asking her to the homecoming dance.

The dance itself is far more elaborate than their senior prom, reception hall decked out in decor to reflect the roaring 20s theme. Beth is wearing a tan three-piece suit that Addy picked out for her, telling her she looked like Jay Gatsby as Beth tried it on over FaceTime, and Addy’s flapper dress is adorned in dark blue fringe that Beth is absolutely obsessed with touching. Or maybe she’s just obsessed with touching Addy, but the distinction feels irrelevant.

One of Beth’s favorite old rock songs comes on, and she wonders if Addy knows it’s the same one they danced to in the warehouse at Sarge Will’s memorial party. They’re dancing the same way now, and Addy pulls back, staring at Beth knowingly, wordlessly telling Beth that she remembers everything.

The song is from the old days of Addy and Beth, when they fought and screamed and battled for power, but Beth has never felt more like herself in this moment, in Addy’s arms at her homecoming in a dated Lexington ballroom.

They’re coming up on twenty, and everything is different now, but Beth is smiling from ear to ear because goddamn, this is so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed this!! let me know what you think and feel free to leave any addybeth fic ideas you want to see in the comments.
> 
> follow me on twitter! @olivigay
> 
> and on tumblr! @sentientaltype


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